there are june beetles in my brain
they will not stay still, crawling an' flying
hey there,
i hope this first letter finds you well; on your front porch, admiring the plains and mountain ranges. i’m hoping for you that it’s a clear, cloudless, pleasant day— not too hot n not too cold.
i miss june beetles lots. when i was around 8 years old, i lived in an apartment, and it was one of those blazing, humid southern california summers that made me sit on our small n cramped balcony ‘cause i wanted to be around all our little potted jungle plants n wind chimes n hummingbird feeders, and also so i could yearn for the pool i wasn’t allowed to be in without someone else around. one of the earlier days that summer, this small green june beetle landed next to me, and i thought he was the prettiest thing i’d ever seen, so i named him herbert (i’d been really craving rainbow sherbert at the time, but i wanted him to have a Real Person Name, despite his not being a person). eventually, he flew off, as bugs tend to do, but the next day, he came back! and i was so excited that i made a calendar for little old herbert (dunno why i chose a calendar), n drew him, n wrote a story about him, n waited for him on the balcony every single day. i remember one day that summer, he just didn’t come back, but as german stories (and many others) like to end, “if they haven't died, they are still alive today.” so herbert is still out there.
i’ve never seen southern california so cold as this past week or so, and i’ve been shaking from it! the other day, it was 44 degrees out— i could barely feel my fingers. i’ve been pretty tired out ‘cause of it, but i’m holding on through the end of the semester. my favorite kind of cold is the kind where it’s bright and sunny out and the air is biting and freezing and maybe there is snow. it has a very special kind of nostalgia and good feeling to it. sadly, it’s been overcast as hell when it’s been cold. we had a nice day today, though.
my dad’s been enjoying lo-fi for some reason, so it’s playing in the house 24/7. i have a feeling his taste is going to change again, soon. i want some water, and maybe some food, too. i now have water and goldfish, and things are significantly better. i just spent something like 10 minutes shoveling goldfish into my mouth and trying to guess at where the tv’s pre-set screensaver photos were taken.
here’s a list of things i think will cure your chronic illness (especially if you don’t have one). you should trust me, i have tried them all and none of them have worked.
eat an entire carton of goldfish and cry over how pretty lava lamps are. it’s imperative you do both, or it won’t cure your chronic illness.
read a book on how to solve math problems. at worst, it’ll make you feel real stupid, and at best, it’ll emotionally exhaust you.
write a poem! poetry is the tried and true best form of escapism. you ARE in a pretty garden with birds and bugs.
water your dad’s weed plants. he’s forgotten to again.
remember to charge a battery pack even once. you’ll feel like a god.
ROLL YOUR BACK OUT ON A FOAM ROLLER. this one is actually life changing.
be t4t. it is freeing.
here is another one ‘cause lists are fun. words i think about a lot:
twinge
twang
tambourine
intrinsically
fresa(s)
fruition
catorce
palm(s)
plains
and that’s all i have for now. i’ve got tests to study for and projects to do, so it’s about time to do neither of ‘em.
i’ll write again soon.
best of omens,
dominic fran